“Hi. This is Jennifer Stavros. I’m calling because I am stuck in a line of traffic heading out there. I know that my interview is at 10:30. I apologize for my potential tardiness.”

“It’s fine. It was bad today. Just get here as soonest you can. Thank you for calling in advance. We are looking forward to meeting you!”

I didn’t expect it to be that bad. I should’ve known better. There’s reasons why people rant and rave about the infamous freeway connecting the west side of Los Angeles. I was hauling ass in my Firebird. I don’t generally drive as bad as that bat out of hell, but today was major. I wanted this job. I needed this job. Bills had to get paid. You know, the normal.

I hit mid-city and the crunch was bad. I cut off a silver PT Cruiser that was none too happy about it. The dark haired gentleman in the car then proceeded to follow me in my blind spot.

Creeping.

Inching.

Intimidating me.

I felt bad for cutting the guy off and waved to apologize in an awkward smile.

He didn’t go for it.

At this point, I was concerned for my safety and decided I needed to lose him. I pulled off the freeway to turn around. Being late for the interview was a null issue. I looked in my mirror to see he was still following me.

“I’m being followed.” I texted to a relative.

As I went back to the freeway I looked up to see that the Cruiser was now cutting me off and blocking the entrance to the freeway.